


When I'm Wiser

by MiraMira



Category: Wake Me Up - Avicii (Music Video)
Genre: Background Character Death, Dystopia, F/M, Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Science Fiction, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4086706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/pseuds/MiraMira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world consists of Outs and Ins.  Then there's Syb and Vy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm Wiser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BatchSan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/gifts).



> Thank you for giving me a chance to flesh out this world, BatchSan. I hope this story works for you.

Going into town was every bit the mistake Syb knew it would be from the start.  She had done her best to dislodge the idea, ignoring it for weeks, then refusing to tell Vy why she wanted her in long sleeves in case she lost her nerve or came to her senses at the last minute.

Vy hadn't been fooled, of course, and her excited chatter had propelled Syb all the way down the road.  "Are we going to the pickstop?"

"They call it a market," Syb cautioned, but with a smile.  "And yes, if you like."  For the moment, she chose to ignore that she was still unsure whether the handful of coins in her bag carried more value as money or scrap metal.  Perhaps the fabber— _shopkeeper_ , she reminded herself sharply, would accept barter.  She did have a better grasp on the worth of their crops.  Maybe he would even want to work out a permanent arrangement.  By the time they reached the main thoroughfare, she was almost as giddy as Vy.  

That excitement died abruptly as she took in the reactions around her.  Then she glanced over at Vy, and realized there were still lower levels of wretchedness to which she could sink when she saw the same expression on the girl's face.

Dazed, she forced herself forward past the sneers.  Everyone, save one gawky teen girl with an unfortunate nose, glared at them as though hoping to repel them all the way to the City and beyond with the force of their disapproval.  She was no longer surprised, or hurt.  She didn't know why she had been in the first place.  Stupid to hope sleeves alone could hide the Passes on their arms, when everything from the fine detail of their clothing to the shine of their hair declared them Ins.  Or outsiders, here.

Even seen through glass as they reached the market with halting steps, the shopkeeper's face was the stoniest of all.  Syb put a trembling hand on the door handle nonetheless, but Vy just shook her head and tugged her away.

The walk back to the farm was quiet.

"They don't like us," Vy said at last when they reached the safety of their fence.

Syb briefly considered excuses: that the townspeople were shy, that they were grieving the loss of a beloved local leader, that their sour looks were the result of something in their diet.  But Vy's frank statement called for an equally honest response.  "No."

"Why?"

_Because they don't know why we left,_ Syb thought.   _Because they don't know what we left, not really.  They'll never know, and they don't know whether to hate us for that or for walking away._

But she didn't know how to put that into words that wouldn't leave Vy with more questions: questions she couldn't begin to answer.  Instead, she pulled the girl close.

____

-

Despite the failed experiment, or in part because of it, she found herself on the outskirts of town a week or so later, scanning the crowds for a particular face.

There she was: the girl who had treated them as objects of curiosity rather than disgust. Better still, she was alone. As she spotted Syb, her mouth fell open for an instant. She quickly closed it, then glanced about to make sure no one had noticed. So she understood discretion, then. Good.

Syb beckoned her over. "What's your name?"

"Ana—Anastasia," the girl stammered.

"Anastasia," repeated Syb, lost in the strange syllables for a second or two before she remembered the urgency of her errand. "You remember my...the girl who was with me?" Anastasia nodded. "I have to go away for a few cycles. Days, I mean. Can you stop in and check on her? Not long. Just an hour a day or so. Two, with the walk."

If Anastasia had heard any part of the actual request in her excitement, she gave no sign. "Go where? To the City? Or...?"

"That doesn't matter," Syb snapped, then regretted her bluntness as she watched Anastasia's face fall. "When I get back, maybe I can tell you." _If I get back. And if I don't, the less you or anyone else knows, the better._ "But you can't share this with anyone."

Anastasia gave this five seconds of serious consideration, then nodded eagerly. "I'll tell Ma I'm looking after Gran Whittaker. The old woman won't remember whether I was there or not."

"Good. Our farm's just up the road. I'll give you directions. Come by starting tomorrow."

Having relayed this information, and satisfied herself that Anastasia understood it, she walked away: comforted, but no more confident in her decision. Tonight, she would have to figure out what to tell Vy.

-

Not even the InsideNet's wiki had an explanation for when or why the Cities had been abandoned, or how they had been preserved. Some people said Sec knew the truth, whatever it was, but some people thought Sec knew everything there was to know. Syb hoped that wasn't true.

The Outsiders might have had stories of their own, but they didn't seem to care. Towns were a necessary evil for exchanging goods and information, but Cities were something more. Cities — even the wiki agreed — were how Inside had started. And Inside, according to Outs, was how the world had gone wrong. So they left the Cities as waystations for the few Ins who ventured outside, and as long as the Ins didn't try to claim them for grander purposes, the truce remained.

Still, it was one thing to read or hear the history, and another to tie her horse up at a feed station and continue down the abandoned streets on foot. She and Vy and their various couriers had gone through less-traveled routes on their way Out. But she couldn't have remembered or navigated the paths on her own, and her guides had warned her repeatedly that they'd turn her in to Sec themselves if she put them at risk by making contact again. If she was going to do this, she had to go In by the main entrance.

It wasn't long before she spotted the woman in red. Syb didn't really need to see her Pass, even as her eyes scanned for it: just staring at the effortless, brazen way the other woman's top hung across her shoulder, she felt a tiny trace of what the townsfolk must have felt when they looked at her. With mingled relief and anxiety, she fell into step. 

By the time the truck pulled up, there were three of them. "Name's Ob," the man behind the wheel said, flashing a grin. "Hop in."

Syb couldn't tell how long they drove, nor did she take in much of the scenery as the City receded behind them and the faint, endless shimmer that marked the Outer Bounds took its place on the horizon. The woman in red, who turned out to be an archaeological scholar, did most of the talking, spurred on by questions from Ob and the other passenger about her research. Syb contributed just enough positive murmurs and nodding that her silence wouldn't seem odd, and focused on trying to settle the contents of her stomach.

She wouldn't even have noticed when they crossed the Bounds if the other passenger hadn't suddenly seized up mid-sentence, then let out a curdling scream that cut off abruptly. Blood seeped from her nose, mouth, and ears as she slumped over, motionless.

With horrified fascination, Syb pulled back the woman's sleeve and touched her Pass. Her fingers didn't come away black; the forgery had at least been sophisticated enough for that. But neither did she feel even a fading trace of the spark that came from contact with the real biocircuitry embedded in a genuine mark.

Shame. She'd been pretty, and not just by Out standards. If she'd taken her chances on Applying instead of trying to smuggle herself Inside, she might have wound up one of the lucky Accepted.

Of course, it wasn't as though Syb had any room to talk about following procedure.

Ob hopped out of the truck with a welcoming smile at the others. "Gentlefolk, we are officially Inside." His enthusiasm faded a trace as he nodded at the body. "No need to wait around. I'll handle the formalities. Enjoy yourselves."

And even knowing Sec might still descend on her at any minute, particularly if she disregarded Ob's advice, Syb felt herself smiling in return.

-

She'd forgotten what Rec Night was like. Which seemed impossible, now that she was here amid the sea of dancers, arms flailing and tabs flashing all around her. And yet as each moment crashed into the next, only to be overwhelmed in turn by a new flood of sound and image and sensation, she could already tell that by morning all but the faintest impressions would be lost to her forever.

"You stimmed up?"

Startled, she turned to find Ob the truck driver watching her. He'd shed his traveling clothes for an open vest of shifting colors, iridescent beads, and pants that followed his form so closely, they'd probably been fabbed directly on to him.

"The music's enough," she told him.

Ob laughed, a rich baritone rumble that pulsed down Syb's spine almost as intensely as the beat of the song.  "You say that because you haven't tried anything yet.  C'mon.  How long has it been?  A couple of months?"

"Longer than that." Now that she'd admitted it, it was beginning to dawn on her just how long she'd gone without most pleasures. Especially with a smiling, well-muscled man near her own age standing right in front of her. "Got anything on you?"

From the way Ob's grin widened, she could see he'd caught the look. "I can do even better." He nodded his head off to the side. "Line for the privacy stall's not long. Shall we?"

-

"Sorry again," Syb said, as she watched Ob finish himself off with a grunt.

"No — _uh!_ No worries." He laid back against the cot, pausing a few seconds to catch his breath, then reached out to grab some tissues from the stall's nearest wall receptacle. "You warned me. And it was good while it lasted."

"Thanks. You too." Not that it would have made any appreciable difference if he'd gone limp within five minutes, but there was definite potential. She checked the time remaining on the stall clock. Ten minutes. Not enough for another go-round. She might as well finish getting dressed.

Ob, though, didn't seem in any hurry. She wasn't surprised he was the type who wanted to talk after. But somehow, she was less alarmed when she should have been, especially when he rolled over to face her and asked. "So what exactly _are_ you doing on the Outside? No offense, but you don't seem like a survivalist, or the academic type."

Syb hesitated. But with both the stims and the post-hookup hormones sending her emotions careening off each other in little firework explosions of calm or excitement every few minutes, she didn't have a prayer of pulling off a cover story that sounded credible enough to shut down further questions, even if she'd done a better job of practicing it beforehand. Plus, she was starting to realize she was hungrier for someone to just _talk_ to than she'd been for sex, and Ob's brown eyes were so warm and attentive.... "I have a kid.  A daughter.  My implant failed.  One in a billion chance, they said."

She had to give him credit: he did a good job of hiding his shock, if not quite his revulsion at the concept. "Did you actually—carry it?  Like an Out?"

"Fuck no."  Cursing was something else she hadn't done in a while, out of some vague aversion at the thought of hearing those words from Vy.  It felt just as good as the stims.  "Once I decided, they transferred the baby over to a gest-unit and fixed me up.  No more accidents."  At the sight of Ob trying and failing to hide his relief, she almost laughed again.  Except she worried she might never stop if she did, and having started the story, she wanted to finish it.  "But one of the medtechs thought I might be curious, I guess.  She told me what Nurture Center they sent Vy to."

"So you went and found her?"

"Not at first. I spent years trying to pretend it didn't happen. But I kept wondering. Did she look like me? Did she sing to herself sometimes, like the color red, hate when they served peas? Did the other kids think she was strange somehow? Did she know anything about me at all? So I decided I'd go volunteer for a day." She made a dismissive gesture. "Just to check. Get my answers and move on with my life. Simple."

Ob raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised they let you."

"I gave them a friend's name and ID." The instant the admission left her mouth, Syb felt the fear that had kept her paralyzed through the entire orientation session that day course through her, but shook it off. If Sec wanted to take her here and now, it wasn't as though they needed a formal confession to her worst crime. "Still don't know why they didn't check my Pass. Maybe they never thought I'd want to do it, or have the nerve. Or they figured it'd help if I got it out of my system, too."

"It didn't help, I take it?"

"It didn't help. Once I actually saw her..." She struggled for the words, the way she'd been struggling since that first moment Vy'd smiled at her. "It was like...this is _mine_. We belonged to each other. I know I should've been more careful: made fewer visits, or paid more attention to the other children. But I wanted - _needed_ \- her to like me. By the time the pro Caretakers noticed, we were friends. When they told her she was going to be transferred soon, she told me." Syb shook her head at the memory. "I didn't have a plan or any contacts at that point. I just blurted that she could come with me instead if she wanted. And she said yes."

She couldn't read Ob's expression. "And you've been living like Outs ever since."

"No.  I thought we were.  I thought we could. I mean, we can in the sense that we haven't died yet, but..." Suddenly, her cheeks were streaming with tears she'd never felt start. Either the stims were backlashing on her, or the conversation was now completely out of her control. "I messed up. And I wouldn't even care if it were only me. I just wish I could fix things for her."

The stall sounded a five-minute warning alarm. Ob glared at it, then turned to her intently. "Listen. Do you want to make everyone nurture their own babies?"

Syb blinked.  "Are you overstimmed?  I know I've got defects.  I don't want to spread them around."

"Do you want to make it so there are no more Ins?" Ob persisted.  "Tear down the borders, smash all the tech?  Or give it to the Outs?"

"What?" Even taking the question as a hypothetical and not a serious suggestion, she recoiled.  "No!"

"That's what I thought.  Last question."  He leaned in and lowered his voice further.  "You don't really think your Pass only works when you hit the border, do you?"

She could only gape at him in reply.

"Trust me.  I've seen what happens when rebs and malconts try to leave, or if they escape and try to sneak back in.  It makes what happened to that Out look like a Nurture Center vid. If Sec thought you were a threat, if they wanted your kid back, they'd have come for you already.  They don't care."

The last traces of Syb's self-possession drained away. "But...I can't just..."

"You _can_. That's what I'm telling you." Ob finished pulling on his vest, then seeing she wasn't about to make a move for hers, tossed it in her lap. "I'm making my next drive Out in two work cycles. I'll be returning the cycle after that. Go get your kid. Bring her back. Throw yourself on Psych's mercy. They won't do any hardcore realignment, not if you commit yourself to whatever treatment they do prescribe. Maybe they'll even let you see her under supervision." He fixed her again with that stare that made her feel like she mattered, the kind she was used to only getting from Vy. "Just come home. Both of you."

-

"Drink up," Syb told the horse, as she filled the trough with water. "You've got another long ride ahead of you soon. And another rider this time."

Leaving it to that task, she headed for the main building, still practically galloping herself.

It occurred to her that maybe Ob had been lying.  Maybe he was Sec. He certainly seemed to know a lot about how they worked. Maybe the only way they'd ever find Vy was if Syb led them to her, just like she was doing now.

She pushed the thought out of her head.  She wasn't a threat.  Anyone who'd been watching could see that.  Ob could testify to it.  And even if they did take her, they wouldn't hurt Vy.  They couldn't.  She was too young.  A few Psych sessions, maybe a bit of deep-level affirmation of the Charter, and the whole ordeal would be nothing more to her than a source of memorable anecdotes for parties: _Oh, I know how grown food works.  Remember how I told you about that time my bio-donor decided we should be like an Out—what's the word, family?  Yeah, I know.  Anyway, you take these tiny things called seeds…_

Vy lay asleep in bed. She looked almost exactly as Syb had left her: well-fed, untroubled. Anastasia must have kept her promise.

Anastasia. What would the girl think when she returned and found the farm abandoned? Syb wished she'd brought a tab or braved the market long enough to buy some local writing supplies. The best she could do was to take soap and scrawl on the bathroom mirror: _Vy safe. Not coming back._ She thought for a second, then added, _Thanks._

It still felt inadequate, but what could she do? She'd only said "maybe." She couldn't wait all day to have the conversation and miss their ride. And what would she say? What advice could she give that would be heeded? Better for Anastasia to join her elders in shaking her head at Syb's flightiness, stop her wishing for a life she'd never fully live even if she somehow became a part of it. Out was the place for an Out girl, whether she realized it or not. And hers...

Suddenly giddy again, she flung herself on to the bed beside Vy, whose eyes blinked open. 

"Get up," Syb told her, laughing. "Pack your things."

"Where are we going?" demanded Vy, still half-asleep.

 _Home,_ Syb's heart sang.  "Somewhere we belong."


End file.
